If I Die Young
by larkgrace
Summary: AU Annabeth dies in the Battle of the Labyrinth and Percy struggles to overcome her death. Songfic to "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry. Oneshot. Reviews are appreciated!


**A/N I must warn you: slight OOC-ness and character death. I do not own anything that should have a copyright sign next to it. Read on!**

If I Die Young

The fighting was intense, and I was an absolute idiot for thinking I would get out of it alive.

First of all, this battle was for control of the freaking _Labyrinth_, not to mention Camp Half-Blood, so of course none of Kronos' forces were showing mercy in any way, shape, or form. They were out for blood and dead demigods. We'd already lost Castor and Lee, and who knew how many more shrouds we would burn when this was all over.

All hope wasn't lost, though. Athena always has a plan.

It was simple, really. The wounded campers would run like heck to the Big House, where they would begin treating themselves, to be finished by the Apollo kids and Chiron later. The rest of us would fall back to the beach, where it was more open for fighting, pin the enemy between us and the water, and the blood would start to flow. (Not that it wasn't already.) It was one of my better ideas, and there was only one flaw—a flaw I should've paid mind to.

The retreat.

See, when we fell back, we would be running for our lives _away_ from the fight, so our backs would be exposed. The main thing to worry about there was archers, but the other army had none, so no big deal, right?

For once, I was dead wrong—literally.

I'd made a serious mistake in underestimating the _speed_ of those kids. Their armor was lighter than ours, so it made them so much _faster_. We were caught with our backs turned, and those cowardly pieces of _scum_ weren't about to pass up on an opportunity like this, were they?

And I, being so dang _proud_, had insisted on bringing up the rear.

Stupid hubris.

My fatal freaking flaw was now actually _fatal_, because those idiotic cowardly _jerks_ went and _stabbed_ me through my freaking _stomach_.

Stupid, _stupid _ hubris.

I still thank the gods that Percy found me. He dropped to his knees next to me in the sand, completely abandoning the fight. "Annabeth!" he yelled, his cries masked by the screams and crashes of the battle. Both of his hands wrapped around mine, trying to ground me, to keep me here with him.

No, no, no, _no_. This wasn't right. I was dying—there was no denying it now—and he still didn't know how—how I _felt_ about him, how I _loved_ him, and—

"Percy," I moaned.

"I'm right here, Annabeth, and it's okay. You're okay. You'll be fine. Chiron can patch you up, you just _have to hang on_. Please, hang in there. You're _not_ dying on me. You won't die. You can't." he sounded like he was reassuring himself more than me.

"Percy," I mumbled again, "you're babbling. Shut up."

He obliged.

"Please, Seaweed Brain, do me one last favor." I put one hand on either side of his face and pulled him down until I could whisper:

"**If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song"**

He was right there, so I pulled him closer and kissed him full on the mouth—a deep, passionate kiss. Then I pulled back and stared straight into his (slightly stunned) green eyes. "Percy, I love you. So much. I'm so sorry." I slumped back on the sand, exhausted. And hurting. There was so much pain…

Percy had tears cutting silvery tracks down his grime-covered face. His eyes were red from crying, there were cuts and bruises covering every inch of his skin, his clothes were in tatters, his hair was messier than usual, and there was a huge lump swelling up on his forehead. I'd never seen anyone looking more amazing in my entire life.

He leaned in until I could hear his breath catching in his throat. "I love you too, Annabeth." The words were barely a whisper, but they echoed in my ears anyway as I closed my eyes.

The last thing I remembered was the feel of his lips brushing mine as he breathed one final "I love you."

**Uh-oh, uh-oh**

O-o-O

Gone.

Annabeth, my Wise Girl, the _love of my young life_, was dead.

And it was all my fault.

I left her side for _one freaking minute_, and she went and got herself turned into a shish-kebab. Now she's laying at my feet, with a knife in her spine and the tip poking through her stomach like a tiny bronze horn.

_Nice going, Seaweed Brain_, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Annabeth whispered in my mind.

After that… well, I don't remember doing anything, but according to the entire population of Camp Half-Blood, a huge wave rose out of the water and swept the invaders out to sea. Apparently none of them were very good swimmers. Then the eyewitnesses (who were shifting around uncomfortably) explained that I collapsed next to Annabeth's body, sobbing, and promptly passed out.

O-o-O

**Lord, make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby**

The burning of the shrouds was pretty amazing to watch, even though one of the bodies in the flames was mine.

My shroud was just like the one my siblings made while Percy and I were on our first quest: beautiful grey with a silver owl embroidered on it. But this time, per my last request, the shroud was satin instead of silk.

Athena attended, too. She knelt next to the fire, and, being a goddess, she could stroke the shroud without getting burned.

I called in a few favors from Iris and begged a little with Hades, and the next thing I knew I was stepping out of a rainbow (I know, very cliché) and in front of the assembled mourners. My half-brother Malcolm, who was hunched over in the front row, glanced up. Then he did a double-take. "A-A-Annabeth? You-you're _here_. But…how?"

"Never mind that," I murmured, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Mom stood up. "Daughter," she whispered, still managing to sound both regal and shocked at the same time. How she did it is beyond me. "how is this possible?"

"It doesn't matter how I got here. It's just… I came to say goodbye."

"So, you're _not_ trying for rebirth?" Malcolm verified.

I shook my head. "No. Definitely not. Gods know one lifetime of excitement was enough for me."

Then, _finally_, his voice—the only voice I wanted to hear.

"Wise Girl?"

I turned around slowly. "Seaweed Brain?"

Percy ran forward to give me a hug which, under normal circumstances, I would've happily returned—except that his arms passed right through me. Oops.

I backed up a little so that I could see his face. "Percy, I'm a spirit now. I can't be hugged, so don't try, because it feels weird." Really, when's the last time you had someone's arm go _through_ you? "The thing is, I don't have much time, but I came to say goodbye—to a lot of people, but mostly… to you."

I heard a collective squeal from the Aphrodite cabin, and a few mutters of "Aw, that's so sweet," from everyone else. Things probably would have gotten out of hand, like demands for a sappy last farewell, but without warning the ground rumbled a silent earthquake, causing everyone but me to stumble. Being a spirit, I wasn't actually touching the ground, since my legs dissolved into smoke and shadows around the knees. (Don't ask me how I could walk, because I have no idea how that worked.)

"That would be my cue to leave. Hades isn't known for his patience." I muttered. "But before I go…"

**The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time**

The ground rumbled again.

"Percy, my knife is in my cabin, on my nightstand. I want you to have it." I whispered just low enough for him to hear.

He blanched. "Your knife? B-but that's the one Luke gave to you! I can't—"

I cut him off. "Luke gave me that knife as a promise that he wouldn't let me down. He broke that promise; therefore, the knife means nothing to me. I'm giving it to _you_ as a promise that I'll wait for you. When your time comes, I'll be there. And _I_ don't break my promises.

I backed up to the rainbow, blew one last kiss to Percy, then turned and stepped into my new home.

O-o-O

**If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song**

**The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time**

I stood next to the creek that stretched between the canoe lake and the Long Island Sound. Clutched in one hand was Annabeth's silver owl necklace, a gift from her dad—the _last_ gift. In my other hand was the knife she had gifted to me.

I sat down next to the water, put my head in my hands, and for the first time in the three days since Annabeth's death, I broke down crying.

_She had loved me._ All this time, she had been in love with me, and I never even knew. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that, because if I was to be perfectly honest with myself, I had been in love with her too. We never even went on a date.

Did professing your love for each other in the middle of a battle as the other dies on the ground count as a date? I'd have to ask Silena about it later.

I got to my feet, wiping my eyes as I did so and praying to every god I could think of that no one saw me break down like that (especially not the Stoll brothers). Then I stepped closer to the rushing water, balancing precariously on the bank. I held out my right hand—the one with the necklace—and released the silvery chain from my grasp. The jewelry fell, almost in slow motion, until it vanished beneath the surface with a small splash.

I turned my back on the creek, not wanting to watch my last piece of Annabeth be swept away from me. I _refused_ to think of the knife as a part of her, because I couldn't look at it without thinking of Luke and broken promises. I wanted to hurl it at a tree, but the dryads wouldn't forgive me for that. Neither would Annabeth.

I switched the dagger over to my right hand, slowly swinging it back and forth to get used to the feel of the blade. I had never fought with a knife before, but I had spent hours watching Annabeth do it and there were several good knife fighters in the camp.

I still didn't like the weapon—it felt almost _cursed_—but I would learn to use it. For Annabeth.

But that was the _only_ reason.

O-o-O

**And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger, I've Never known the lovin' of a man But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand, there's a Boy here in town, says he'll Love me forever Who would've thought forever could be severed by **

**The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time**

Even though I hated having to be there, Elysium was _awesome_. I mean, even from a distance it looked cool, but once you were inside… woah. It was, as Percy so _aptly_ put it, party central.

Still… it wasn't complete. I glanced down at the cheap fake emerald ring Percy gave me for my last birthday—like one of the ones you get from candy machines. Basically worthless, but the green rhinestone reminded me of him, so I wore it anyway. Plus it totally matched the green trim on the Greek chiton I received when I got here. (Oh, gods, I just sounded like an _Aphrodite_ kid. Eugh.)

I was staring at the bowl in front of me, filled to the brim with water from the Isles of the Blessed. The water acted like a camera lens—a look into what might have been.

I saw Percy and I running into battle side-by-side, the two of us kissing under a full moon, walking down the beach hand in hand, playing Capture the Flag, laughing as we sat in a bubble underwater. Then the scene shifted, and we seemed to get older. I was crying into his chest, Percy stroking my hair, we were fighting for our lives on opposite ends of a battlefield, trying to reach each other, sprinting over sand dunes, drenched in sweat and blood.

Then there were three people on the Fireworks Beach—me, Percy, and a younger girl who looked like him. His sister, maybe? I stood on the sidelines, watching Percy and the other girl wrestle in the water. The fight was over when he shoved her into an oncoming wave and she retreated, screaming. Percy took my hand and we wandered down the beach, chatting and laughing. Then, quite suddenly, he got a very serious look on his face and pulled me to a stop, placing one hand on each of my shoulders and looking me in the eyes. I returned the gaze with a slightly terrified expression that changed to shock as he got down on one knee. He said a few words to me, and I tackled him with a hug and a few kisses.

The scene shifted again, and the two of us were slow-dancing—me in a white dress, Percy in a tux. I looked up at him, and he smiled down at me, and we kissed long and deep. It shimmered and showed the two of us, still on the same day, boarding a small ship and waving our goodbyes. Percy had his back turned, but a horrified expression crossed my face as a scream—the first sound that had come from the visions—echoed across the beach.

Another scene change: the two of us, my guess was a few seconds later, kneeling over the body of the girl who I guessed to be Percy's sister. The poor girl had an arrow through her chest, and she was coughing up huge amounts of blood. I watched the tiny conversation between the three of us until, finally, the girl's breathing slowed and stopped.

The scene dissolved again, and then re-formed on Percy and me battling a drakon in an unfamiliar forest. (I was pleased to notice that I led the charge.) The drakon fell, Percy vanishing under its body, but instead of rescuing him I dropped my knife and approached three kids standing off to the side.

There was another vision, just a quick flash: Percy and I standing together, me holding a tiny blond child with Percy's sea-green eyes. We looked a couple of years older.

Then it was the two of us, who looked to be in our late twenties or early thirties, kneeling next to the campfire and looking miserable. Then an older version of the blond girl—she was about the size of a six-year-old, but her facial features suggested that she was around nine—launched herself at us, and we immediately perked up.

Finally, the last scene: I was kneeling on the beach in the middle of a storm, sobbing over Percy's dead body.

Real-life me recoiled in horror, knocking over the bowl in the process; the visions shattered. But of course it wouldn't happen. I was dead, and these visions only showed what _might_ have happened if I had survived. Percy wouldn't die like he had in the vision.

I just had to hope it wouldn't be sooner.

O-o-O

**So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls What I never did is done**

I rolled a small black pearl—the rarest kind therewas—between my fingers. It was shining with its own internal, dark brightness, like it sucked light into its depths and released a little of it into the open.

I had found it just off the beach, in this amazing underwater sanctuary—a place I had promised to take Annabeth.It was only fitting that there would be invaluable treasure there.

The only treasure I really wanted was to see _her_ again. Forget pearls. I chucked the stupid thing as far as I could from my cabin's doorstep; it flew across the commons area, clanged against the roof of the Athena cabin, and landed below one of the windows—the window that Annabeth would always wave to me from. I turned away.

I never wanted to see another pearl again.

O-o-O

**A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar They're worth so much more after I'm a gonner And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singin' Funny when you're dead how people start listenin' **

Call me a stalker, I couldn't help but keep an eye on Percy. I was sitting out on the porch of my dream home… oh, man, you wouldn't believe the architecture. The columns that wrapped around the front—oh, sorry. Death didn't do away with the ADHD. My bad. Anyway, I had a fresh bowl of Isles water and I watched Percy settle down on his bed, Daedalus' laptop in hand. I have no idea what he was looking for—Capture the Flag strategies, or maybe just a really good muffin recipe, it was all there—but I couldn't help smirking when he got a look at my background. It read:

_Property of Annabeth Chase_

_ If you are reading this, I can only assume I'm dead or the Hermes kids stole my computer. Either way, return this to its proper place or suffer my wrath. Don't say I didn't warn you._

_ Have a nice day! –Annabeth._

He gaped at it for a minute, then grinned and snorted. It was the first time I had seen him laugh since…well, you know.In any case, he was sifting through the heaps of information, occasionally whistling appreciatively at some of the better ideas. He then shifted over to his desk, so I could read the screen over his shoulder. He was looking at recipes for magical weapons—hopefully he had the brains to show those to Beckendorf. Then Percy found the page for shape-shifting swords. Since the laptop had originally belonged to a son of Athena, the sword in the sketch shifted into a silver owl charm. Percy's face fell, and he turned his back on the computer, so that I could see his eyes filling with tears.

Then, of course, Malcolm had to walk in. He stopped short when he saw Percy's expression.

"Oh, hey, Percy. Sorry to bother you, it's just… well, I was wondering if my cabin could examine the laptop—there's got to be some brilliant strategies in there, and with the war coming up, we could sure use them…"

I felt so bad for Percy—he looked like it would cause him physical pain to hand over the computer. I didn't pretend to understand why, but I close my eyes and touched the water with my fingertips. Then I whispered,

"_Malcolm_."

In the vision, his head jerked up.

_Let him keep it. For me._

Malcolm's mouth was open, but his hand still twitched toward the laptop. Once a strategist, always a strategist, I guess.

_Please._

Malcolm pulled back his hand, backing toward the door, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Then he turned and ran.

O-o-O

**If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song**

I hilt-slammed Pollux from the Dionysus cabin and he went sprawling to the arena floor. He got slowly to his feet and brushed off his T-shirt. Then he grinned at me. "Not bad, Percy. Not bad at all."

As it turned out, Pollux was the best knife fighter in camp, behind Annabeth. He'd been giving me lessons with Annabeth's dagger in exchange for swim lessons in the canoe lake. Well, okay, not exactly _swim_ lessons, but I was showing him the best way to fight with a sword in the water, which was harder than it seemed. You had to be able to tread water with your feet only and—well, I'm getting off track.

I held the polished knife up, staring into its reflection of my face. For a moment—just a moment—my green eye flashed gray, my black hair lightening to blond. I blinked, and the image of Annabeth vanished.

My previously heavy arms felt lighter. I looked back up at Pollux.

"Let's go again."

O-o-O

**The ballad of a dove Go in peace and love Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh**

I was going to _kill_ Aphrodite.

It was the talk of Elysium. The goddess of love had been _so_ moved by the tragic story that she had batted her eyes at Apollo, who ordered around the Muses, who inspired some band called The Band Perry to write a _song_ about us—Percy and I. The band had decided to call it _If I Die Young_. And, of course, the vain immortal _had_ to put herself in—_the ballad of a dove_—like this was all her idea. Like it was her idea for me to die in the battle—wait, was Aphrodite that evil? It could have been her… Oh, sorry, I think that was the ADHD. In any case, I was not happy. Not. Happy. At all.

I was going to _kill_ her.

O-o-O

**The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time**

I stood on the banks of the River Styx, trying oh so hard not to vomit.

Nico had already told me a thousand times, "You must pick one spot on your body that will remain mortal—your only weak point." I couldn't decide. No place seemed perfect, and if I hadn't thought of it by now, I probably wouldn' only thing I was sure of was that I wanted it to _mean_ something.

I remembered Annabeth, dying on the beach with a knife through the small of her back.

I took a deep breath, and plunged into the water.

…

I was going to die.

I could _feel_ it—feel every fiber of my being swirling away in the current.

_I love you._

My head jerked around, searching for the source of the voice.

_I love you._

Again, that same voice, the only voice I desperately wanted—needed—to hear. Annabeth's voice.

_Don't you _dare _give up, Seaweed Brain._

And then she was there, right in front of me, kneeling on the bottom of the Styx.

"Annabeth," I whispered.

_You are not going to give up on me, Percy. You're not done yet._ It was the strangest way of talking—her lips didn't move an inch, but her voice resonated in my mind.

"Why shouldn't I give up?" I asked her. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just let myself die, here and now. Nico can handle the prophecy. I don't want it. I don't want anything."

_I can give you a reason, _she murmured, _I need you. But right now, Olympus needs you more. The world needs you more. I know you, and I know you won't let yourself die when you still have your duty. It's not your time yet._

_Go back to Nico, _she continued, _and do what you have to do. Your time will come, and I will wait for you._

Annabeth took my hand, and led me to the edge of the river. She smiled one last time before I shot back to the surface.

_I will wait for you._

…

This was hopeless.

Kronos was at the throne room, he was just as invulnerable as I was, and this _wasn't going to work_. I was going to fail, the world was going to end, and it would be all my fault.

I didn't really pay attention to what exactly was going on, but somehow I was flinging my hand, clutched around Annabeth's knife, at Luke's armpit—the tiniest opening as he prepared to strike. For the first time, the blade actually pierced his skin, burying the knife up to the hilt.

At the exact same time that Kronos's sword pierced the small of my back.

Well, crap.

I sank to my knees, my vision going fuzzy, and stopped breathing just as my father blasted through the throne room door.

O-o-O

**So put on your best boys, and I'll wear my pearls**

I was sitting by the gates, sketching a new monument, when _he_ walked through.

"Oh my gods," I gasped, "Percy. Gods, I'm so sorry."

He just stopped a few feet away, cocked his head to the side, grinned, and waved at me—like we'd run across each other in Central Park rather than the Land of the Dead. Then he stretched out his arms, and I flung myself into them, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated.

"I'm not," he said.

I stared at him like he was crazy.

"The prophecy's over," he explained, "and now I get to see you again without wanting to run. I'm here, and for the first time, I get to kick back and relax."

I sighed. "As weird as this sounds, I'm glad you're here, Seaweed Brain."

He laughed. "I'm glad I'm here too, Wise Girl." Then he pressed his lips to mine.

If this was what I got for eternity, I could get used to it.

THE END

**A/N So…what did you think? Read and review, constructive criticism welcome but don't flame. Any flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Sorry it was so long, hope you liked it! And for anyone who cares, those visions of the future Annabeth saw are from my other series, which I haven't published online…yet… I might if you ask nicely. Any reviewers get a virtual cookie.**

**~~larkgrace**


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